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Mr. Wrong

McGreed Is McGood

By Joe MacLeod | Posted 9/5/2001

Right off the bat, I need to tell you it's too late, baby, it's just too late to line up at McDonald's to get in on the "special second chance" shot at $10 million bucks worth of prize-pool dollars. If you are so inclined, of course, politically and morally and ethical-treatment-of-animally, to darken the Golden Arches with your shadow for any reason, of course, this woulda been a good one.

Also, of course, if this column ran every week instead of every other week, you mighta heard about this gold rush, this land grab, this big balloon-bucks-drop-at-midnight kinda thing happening at your nearest House of Ronald, but since last week was an "other" week, I'm delivering the McNews a little McLate. Yet another reason to petition your local congressional representative or Alternative McWeekly to correct this injustice. It's all about justice. Only You can prevent forest fires and get the Mr. Wrong on the right track, the weekly track of freedom and justice, to you, the Gentle Reader, on a Weekly basis. Weekly.

Anyway, cool, huh? The FBI finally cracked a Big One, a case we can all get behind. No shades of gray here, man, no questionable tactics, bad shootings, jackbooted thugs, or hidden agendas involved with this one. This one was Good vs. Evil. That guy who stole all the good prize-sticker-things outta the McDonald's games stole not only from McRonald's, he Stole From America, and he should be punished big time, to the maximum extent allowed in a minimum daily requirement of justice. I want Justice too, man. With a big "J." A Capital "J" if you will. McJustice is what I crave, baby.

And I want Reparations too. No piece of the action for me, no McJustice, dig? I would be happy to see the McGovernment snatch up all that guy's stuff and all the stuff anybody got from him and give it all away, Soylent Green-style, Symbionese-Liberation-Army-groceries-style. I wanna see that guy wearing a fucking barrel, man. He should have all his shit taken away, then he should be thrown in a maximum-security McJail until his McNuggets fall off for the irreparable harm that has been inflicted upon my faithful consumerism at the McDonald's.

OK, pretty much the only reason I go to McDonald's is if they have a cool toy in the Happy Meal or if they have a contest. Otherwise, my fast-food cash heads for the Taco Bell border or to the King. The Burger King. I love that new teevee campaign they got. "The Whopper Says: Eat Me." Or something to that effect. "The Whopper Says" this and "The Whopper Says" that. Man, that's some good shit. Plus, they got that guy who was Puddy on television's Seinfeld to be the voice, I think. He is exactly the Voice of the Whopper. "In the Land of Burgers, the Whopper is King." Hell, yes, Whopper. Hail, Whopper. Whopper über alles, and flame-broiled double cheeseburger for vice alles.

I mean, I know I'm getting played when I eat the fast food, I know I'm just the shiny metal ball in the big pachinko machine of meat and meat by-products, so I'm just looking for a little something extra, see? It's like candy; I could just go to the diner and take a whole bunch of sugar packets and dump 'em on my tongue when I'm in the mood for a sugary snack, but as long as Snickers is giving away a car or some cash, I'm-a go buy me a Snickers bar and roll the dice. The played-upon becomes the player--in a completely bacteria-level game on the food chain of play, but a player nonetheless. What else can I do? Work hard and eat my vegetables? Bullshit. I want to play, so gimme the Super Size fries and my two McDonald's Monopoly-game stickers and let me have my snowball's chance in hell at some long dollars. It's my right as an American.

The McDonald's sees this, which is why they came up with this sloppy-seconds game for my Labor Day Three-Day Weekend. So now, in addition to my usual Labor Day Three-Day Weekend plans to stay up late with Jerry, I am gonna get up early with McMuffin and hie me down to my local franchisee or independent owner/operator of a McDonald's to get a "second chance," according to the handbill I got with my Filet-O-Fish last night. And, Jesus Christ, not so much fucking "tartar sauce" on my Filet-O-Fish next time, OK? I can't understand putting mayonnaise on fish in the first place. OK, maybe for mixing a little in with tuna, but jeez, dripping all over a piece of fried sea-product? Yuck. So anyway, the handbill says, "[W]e were outraged when the FBI told us that a suspected criminal ring allegedly stole millions of dollars worth of top prizes in our McDonald's games. . . . We want you to have what belongs to you. That includes a chance to win . . . and a chance to win big. . . . [W]hen you visit your local McDonald's restaurant, you become eligible to win instantly in the McDonald's 2001 Instant Giveaway, featuring a $10 Million Prize Pool."

Of course, I heard on the radio that McDonald's ain't doing that well, so maybe this is all some seriously next-level shit. Maybe the big cheeses at McDonald's are looking for a big push over the Three--count 'em--Three-Day Holiday Weekend Without Labor. Whatever. I get another shot at some cash. The only thing that would make it better would be to watch 'em burn that thieving Monopoly-sticker-game-ruining motherfucker at the stake, on the Telethon while I stay up late with Jerry. Better yet, they should flame-broil him. The Whopper says it's better that way.

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